Monica Murphy is a New York Times, USA Today, and international bestselling romance author. Her books have been translated in almost a dozen languages and have sold over two million copies worldwide. Both a traditionally published and independently published author, she writes young adult, new adult and contemporary romance. She’s also known as USA Today bestselling author Karen Erickson.

A native Californian, she lives on fourteen acres in the middle of nowhere with her husband, two kids, one dog, and four cats. When she’s not writing, she’s an assistant coach for her daughter’s high school cheer team, which is a two season sport. Meaning, she’s at practice with a bunch of teenage girls all the time. Or she’s at a football game. Or a basketball game. Maybe someday, she’ll even write about this experience.

We all snicker when we see who Diego’s discreetly pointing at as we walk past her in the hallway. Some freshman who looks about ten, with big blue eyes and a mouth full of metal. She’s cute enough, but way too young.

“I don’t think so,” I tell my friends as we stride toward the quad.

It’s lunchtime. Our senior year. We’re able to drive off campus now, but not today. Coach wants us to watch game film of the team we’re playing tomorrow night. So we have about fifteen minutes to grab food before we all meet in the team room to study our opponents. Learn their weak spots, their strengths. See if they’re better defensively or offensively.

When I say Coach, I’m talking about my dad. I just try to keep that shit separate. It’s easier that way.

“Check her out,” says Diego—one of my best friends—nudging me in the shoulder and now not-so-discreetly pointing at a group of girls sitting at a nearby picnic table.

“Which one?” Again, they’re young. Maybe sophomores? I don’t really recognize any of them. If they’re a couple of years younger than me and not friends with my sister Ava, who’s a junior, or on the football team, I don’t bother getting to know them.

That makes me sound like an asshole, but I don’t have the time. I have my circle of friends. I even have my circle of acquaintances. This year, my last year in high school, I don’t need to add to either group. I’m perfectly content with what I have.

“Any of them.” Diego slaps me on the back, a giant grin on his face. “You need to find someone, bro. This single, I-don’t-bother-with-any-girl business is getting old.”

I don’t bother with any girls anymore because when I do, they tend to take my heart and rip it to shreds. It’s ridiculous, but when I fall, I tend to fall hard.

Sophomore year I got my heart broken twice, once by Cami Lockhart. We got back together the beginning of junior year only for her to cheat on me—and I found out via Snapchat.

That sucked.

I’ve never bothered with a girl again. Fuck ’em. I’d rather focus on football and my friends and school, exactly in that order.

“Too young,” I tell Diego, and Caleb, my other best friend, bursts out laughing.

“Oh come on. She’s cute. I’d bet she’s down,” he says with a smirk.

Caleb is an actual asshole. He hooks up with an endless stream of girls, yet most of them don’t complain. It’s like they’re proud to be a Caleb fan girl.

“Find him a senior then,” Diego says, stopping in the direct center of the crowded quad. He settles his hands on his hips and turns in a slow circle, scanning the area with a narrowed gaze. Diego has a girl and they’re supposedly madly in love. I mean, good for him. They seem totally into each other—for the most part. They’ve been together for over a year, and Jocelyn treats him like a god, while she’s his princess, as he calls her. I’m pretty sure they’ve talked about getting married, which is just…insane if you ask me.

“Her.”

We all swivel our heads to see Tony—our quietest friend—inclining his head toward a table to the left of where we’re standing.

There’s a girl sitting there, her back to us. Alone. She’s wearing a black T-shirt, her reddish-blonde hair spilling down her back in loose waves. Her elbow’s propped on the table and she’s resting her cheek on her fist, an open book in front of her. Like she’s reading. For fun.

What the hell?

“No way,” Diego says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Jake’s not into smart girls.”

“I like her hair,” Tony says, his tone, his entire demeanor impassive, like we’re talking about the weather. “She’s cute.”

“You should go for her then,” Caleb suggests to Tony.

“Nah. Not my type.” Tony’s gaze meets mine and he tilts his head, like he’s giving me permission to talk to her.

Huh.

“How do you know she’s a smart girl?” I study her, taking in her narrow shoulders, the elegant slope of her back. She brushes her hair back from her face, tucking the strands behind her ear and offering me a glimpse of her profile. She’s pretty in an understated way, I guess. Upturned nose. Pale skin. Freckles.

Yes, this is what we’re doing on a Thursday afternoon during lunch. Trying to find a girl for me to ask to wear my jersey on game day. It’s a big deal at our high school, and so far during my reign as the varsity team’s quarterback, I’ve only had one girl ever wear my jersey, and for only one time. It was Cami Lockhart, right at the beginning of our junior year, when I thought there was a possible chance we could work shit out and be a couple again.

But then someone sent me her private story off Snapchat—a video of her making out with motherfucking Eli Bennett, the quarterback for our rival school’s team, and I was done. Finished.

For some reason, this year my boys want to see me make a claim. Find a girl. They tell me I’m too grumpy. That maybe if I’m getting some on the regular, that’ll mellow me out. Some of them even complain I’m too focused, which I don’t get. Why wouldn’t they want me focused?

Focused wins games. I’ve had that drilled into my head over the years by my dad.

“No way,” I tell Caleb when he acts like he’s going to approach the mystery girl sitting at the table. “I’ll do it.”

I don’t know why I’m bothering with this. I don’t know her, but I’m guessing she knows me. Most girls would probably be flattered if I asked, but I’m not that sure if she’s into football, or if she even goes to the games. But it would be cool to see her wear my number around school all day.

Maybe I could make it a thing. Give it to a different girl every week. They’d start fighting for their chance. It could turn into a contest. Maybe it would go viral…

“Go ask her.” Diego gives me a shove in the girl’s direction, his hand right in the center of my back. “Before you chicken out.”

Okay, that shit’s annoying. And it’s just the incentive I need to make it happen. Glancing over my shoulder, I glare at my three best friends, but all they do is make clucking noises at me in return like they’re a bunch of chickens.

Assholes.

Slowly I approach the table, wondering what I should say first. I don’t have a problem talking to girls. I never really have. I almost wonder if this is because I grew up in a household full of women. Don’t get me wrong, Dad is a strong personality and is a big influence on me, but he wasn’t around much when I was little. He was busy working all the time.

Growing up, I was always with Mom, my older sister Autumn and my younger sister Ava. Our little brother Beck didn’t come along until years later, and by then I was resigned with the idea that I’d never even have a brother.

So I was constantly surrounded by girls. Autumn and Ava used to fight like cats and dogs. Now that Autumn’s gone, away at college in Santa Barbara, we don’t see her that much. Ava is happier with Autumn gone, I think. Having an older sister trying to boss you around all the time gets old.

I know I got tired of Autumn’s bullshit. Now, I miss her. Not that I’d ever tell her that.

Deciding I need to approach this mystery girl straight on, I walk around the table, keeping a wide berth so she doesn’t get suspicious or think I’m a stalker. And once I’m facing the table, I take a good, long look at her.

She’s vaguely familiar, so I’m assuming she’s a senior like me, or maybe a junior. Our school is small, so most of the time I feel like I know everyone, but I can’t place her. I don’t remember her name. Her hair is this burnished, reddish-gold color and her eyes are big and blue. Her features delicate—except for her mouth. Full, bee-stung lips that fill my head with dirty images.

Every one of them involves my dick.

Not that I’m actually interested in this girl. I don’t even know her. But as far as my first choice to wear my jersey this week, it’s not a bad one.

Not a bad one at all.

One of my friends, I’m not sure who, makes a bok-bok noise and I send them all a menacing look before I march right up the table and clear my throat. “Hey.”

She rolls her eyes, resting her arms on top of the table. “Did you have a question or something?”

Her tone is short. Dismissive. This girl is totally trying to get rid of me. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do have a question for you.”

“I’m waiting on pins and needles,” she says, her voice going up a notch, those blue eyes of hers extra wide.

They’re pretty, I’ll give her that. She’s pretty. There’s a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose and she has very white teeth.

“I was wondering if you wanted…” I let my voice drift and I glance down at my shoes, kicking at the base of the picnic bench. I’m trying to up the anticipation a notch. Going for the golly, gee bashful vibe. Girls seem to like it.

“Wanted what?”

Huh. Guess she’s not one for anticipation.

“If you wanted to wear my jersey tomorrow.” I lift my head, my gaze meeting hers straight on, and I see the surprise in her eyes. I’ve shocked her with my request.

Come on, I can see why. I’m me and she’s…whoever she is.

She studies me for a while, and now it’s my turn to wait with anticipation. Her full lips part, like she’s about to say something, but instead, she looks away from me, grabs her things and starts shoving them into her backpack.

As if she’s about to leave.

When she shoots me an irritated glare, slides off the picnic bench and walks away without another word, I chase her, surprised by how quick she is. My friends are laughing, I can hear them as I follow after this chick—still don’t know her name—but I can’t worry about them right now.

Even though they’re total assholes for laughing at me.

“Hey!” I call out, but it’s like my voice only spurs her on. She’s practically in a full jog as she heads toward Adams Hall, and I wonder if her plan is to duck into a classroom and hide from me.

Putting a little speed behind my step, I catch up with her easily, hooking my fingers around her upper arm and stopping her escape. She turns to face me, the look on her face so full of disgust I immediately release her and take a step back.

“Why are you chasing me?” she asks breathlessly. Her cheeks are pink, and she’s practically panting. I get the sense that maybe she doesn’t exercise much? I mean, I’m not even winded.

“You never answered my question.”

She lifts her chin. Blows out an exaggerated breath, like what I’m asking is too damn much. After enduring the last five minutes with this chick, I don’t even want her to wear my jersey now. She’s making way too big a deal about this.

But for some weird reason, I have to know what her answer is.

“My name is Hannah,” she finally says, and it all hits me at once. I do know her. Barely. Hannah Walsh. Senior. Moves in a completely different crowd. As in, she doesn’t really move with any crowd. I’ve never had a class with her ever, because she takes all the advanced courses. My friends were right.

She’s a smart girl.

“Right. Hannah.” I nod and smile. “I know you.”

She smiles in return, though it doesn’t quite reach her sky-blue eyes. “Uh huh. Sure you do.”

“I do. You’re friends with…” My voice drifts. I don’t know who she’s friends with. I can see their faces, but at the moment, I can’t recall their names.

“Please.” She reaches out, settling her hand on my forearm, and it’s like a spark of electricity between us the moment our skin makes contact. She snatches her hand away like I burned her. “Stop trying so hard.”

I almost want to laugh. This girl is telling me to stop trying so hard? Does she even know who she’s dealing with? The power I wield at this school? I’m the most popular guy in the senior class—maybe in all the classes. This is my year to shine. My year to reign.

And this Hannah nobody is telling me to stop trying so hard?

Get the fuck out of here.

Can’t back out now, though. I’m fully committed.

“So what do you say, Hannah? Are you in? Do you want to wear my jersey tomorrow?” Not like I want her to anymore. She’s been rude from the moment I started talking to her.

“Gee, I sure appreciate the offer, but…” She scowls at me, her lush lips pursed. “No.”

Meet Monica:

Monica Murphy is a New York Times, USA Today, and international bestselling romance author. Her books have been translated in almost a dozen languages and have sold over two million copies worldwide. Both a traditionally published and independently published author, she writes young adult, new adult and contemporary romance. She’s also known as USA Today bestselling author Karen Erickson.

A native Californian, she lives on fourteen acres in the middle of nowhere with her husband, two kids, one dog, and four cats. When she’s not writing, she’s an assistant coach for her daughter’s high school cheer team, which is a two season sport. Meaning, she’s at practice with a bunch of teenage girls all the time. Or she’s at a football game. Or a basketball game. Maybe someday, she’ll even write about this experience.

Monica Murphy is a New York Times, USA Today, and international bestselling romance author. Her books have been translated in almost a dozen languages and have sold over two million copies worldwide. Both a traditionally published and independently published author, she writes young adult, new adult and contemporary romance. She’s also known as USA Today bestselling author Karen Erickson.

A native Californian, she lives on fourteen acres in the middle of nowhere with her husband, two kids, one dog, and four cats. When she’s not writing, she’s an assistant coach for her daughter’s high school cheer team, which is a two season sport. Meaning, she’s at practice with a bunch of teenage girls all the time. Or she’s at a football game. Or a basketball game. Maybe someday, she’ll even write about this experience.

At Santa Cruz Central High School, they called them the misfits, the outcasts, the weirdos. But most of us knew them as the Lost Boys…

The Girl in the Love Song, book one in the Lost Boys, an interconnected coming-of-age series of standalones, from USA Today Bestselling author Emma Scott releases on June 7, 2020!

Cover Designer: Lori Jackson

Miller Stratton is a survivor. After a harrowing childhood of poverty, he will do anything it takes to find security for himself and his mom. He’s putting all his hopes and dreams in the fragile frame of his guitar and the beauty he creates with its strings and his soulful voice.

Until Violet.

No one expects to meet the love of their life at age thirteen. But the spunky rich girl steals Miller’s heart and refuses to give it back.

Violet McNamara’s life hasn’t been as simple as it looks. Her picture-perfect family is not so perfect after all. Her best friend Miller is her one constant and she is determined not to ruin their friendship with romantic complications.

But the heart wants what it wants. As Miller’s star begins to rise to stratospheric heights, what will it take for Violet to realize that she’s the girl in all of his love songs?

Emma Scott is an internationally bestselling author whose books have been featured in Buzzfeed, Huffington Post, New York Daily News and USA Today’s Happy Ever After. She writes emotional, character-driven romances in which art and love intertwine to heal, and in which love always wins. If you enjoy emotionally-charged stories that rip your heart out and put it back together again, with diverse characters, and heroes with a heart of gold, you will enjoy her novels.

Today we are celebrating the release of THE RIGHT WAY by Katie Ashley. This is a contemporary romance title. Check out the blurb for the book below. Grab your copy now and follow Ashley’s Group for details about each of her titles.

THE RIGHT WAY by Katie Ashley

After witnessing his younger brother’s death in a tragic accident, Jonathan Nelson desperately tries losing himself on the gridiron. No matter how hard he tries keeping his head above water, he’s drowning in a sea of grief. Compounding his inability to get his head on straight is Presley—the girl who had a complicated relationship with his brother, Jake, and who is pregnant with his child. At first, Jonathan only harbors resentment and animosity to Presley when she moves in with his parents. But the more the two are thrown together, the more his feelings for her begin to change, and the more confusing Jake’s loss becomes.

Presley Patterson never imagined finding out she was pregnant just a month before graduating high school. She also never fathomed losing the baby’s father to a tragic accident. Needing support for her and her unborn child, she seeks solace by moving in with Jake’s parents. She isn’t too surprised to find an adversary in Jonathan, but she isn’t about to let him ruin the first stability she’s ever experienced. Surprisingly, the animosity towards Jonathan begins to fade and is replaced by more amorous feelings. Taking a chance on Jonathan means risking the perfect world she’s built for herself and her daughter.

Can the two move on from the specter of Jake in order to find a future together, or will their wounded hearts remain unhealed?

——————————-

About the Author

Katie Ashley is a New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon Best-Selling author of both Indie and Traditionally published books. She lives outside of Atlanta, Georgia with her daughter, Olivia, and her spoiled mutt, Duke. She has a slight obsession with Pinterest, The Golden Girls, Shakespeare, Harry Potter, Star Wars, and Scooby-Doo.

With a BA in English, a BS in Secondary English Education, and a Masters in Adolescent English Education, she spent eleven years teaching both middle and high school English, as well as a few adjunct college English classes. As of January 2013, she hung up her red pen and expo markers to become a full-time writer. Each and every day she counts her blessings to be able to do her dream job.

Although her roots are firmly planted in the red Georgia clay, she loves traveling the country and world to meet readers and hang out with fellow authors. When she’s not writing or chasing down her toddler, you might find her watching reruns of The Golden Girls, reading historical biographies, along with romance novels, or spending way too much time on Facebook.

Tijan is a New York Times Bestselling author that writes suspenseful and unpredictable novels. Her characters are strong, intense, and gut-wrenchingly real with a little bit of sass on the side. Tijan began writing later in life and once she started, she was hooked. She’s written multi-bestsellers including the Carter Reed Series, the Fallen Crest Series, and the Broken and Screwed Series among others. She is currently writing a new YA series along with so many more from north Minnesota where she lives with a man she couldn’t be without and an English Cocker she adores.

Blurb

The first time I met Oliver Tanner he was five years old.
I was four.
That day he was entrusted to my keep.
He was as large and loud as a church mouse.
That day I taught him how fireflies were magic with the persistence of a person.
That’s what I loved about them.
No matter how far they strayed,
they remembered where they came from and who their family was.

After high school, he joined the army and left Knox Ridge.

Years later, the town had changed.
My dreams were shattered.
We had nothing left.
I had forgotten all about the magic of the fireflies.
Until he came back to town.
Everything about him was comforting.
He brought some light to my darkness,
But I knew the light could only last for so long.
Fireflies only stay for the summer.
He had outgrown our small town.
It was time for me to stop chasing fireflies.

Don’t miss out on this stunning, second-chance friends to lovers romance.

This full-length novel was originally published in the Cards of Love collection as a novella. It has been revised with additional scenes.

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Excerpt

In the beginning, there were fireflies, crisp floating dots wading through the summer breeze.

There were children in the streets and popsicles being passed out by a local grandmother. There were skinned knees, too much sunscreen, and the wafting scent of freshly cut grass. There were long days and even longer nights.

Summers in Knox Ridge were just as much about mosquito nets and cicada songs as they were about lemonade and sunshine.

Knox Ridge wasn’t the biggest town in Georgia, but there were too many of us to learn each other’s names by heart. Most people grew up on the same street their parents did all those years ago.

They grew from a twinkle in their parents’ eyes into people who would one day take their places in the layout of our town. Their legacies casted shadows on every succeeding generation—what they’d do, where they lived, and who they loved. The town had a blueprint most didn’t question, but also didn’t consider too much.

“Being a part of Knox Ridge was a privilege,” my Nana used to say.

It was a privilege to live around people who truly care for you and an honor to have a place like Knox Ridge to come home to.
“Every town on Earth says they’re the best,” Nana always said. “But how many towns can say ‘if you’re with us, we’ll accept every part of you?’”

Only Knox Ridge.
She swore that no one truly left Knox Ridge once they’d gotten a taste of living here, but some took breaks. She was right, some people drifted in and out of our sleepy town, but they always came back home. Even if they hadn’t realized they’d left.

I met Oliver Tanner one blistering afternoon in July.

He was five years old, moving back into the childhood home of his recently deceased father. I was four, sitting next door on my front porch with my best friend, Paige, munching on watermelon as we did nearly every afternoon.

Paige’s father had been my father’s best friend since childhood. Like I said, there was a blueprint to this town. Even Oliver with his ripped cargo shorts and dinosaur toys clenched tightly to his little chest. I had never seen anyone in that house. Not until they arrived.

“I never thought I’d live to see another Tanner live in that house,” my grandmother said.

I wouldn’t learn until years later the tumultuous history of the Tanner family in town. Once one of the most respected families of Knox Ridge, Oliver’s grandfather had left them disgraced and destitute three decades earlier when he ran off to California with a woman he barely knew. The Tanners had been on a downward spiral ever since.

Nana had been more or less right. Josey Tanner was twenty-five, freshly widowed, and out of money from living out west. Her only option was moving to this house she’d inherited from her husband’s passing and spread out his meager life insurance for as long as she could.

Nana introduced us to Oliver and his mother. Josey likewise introduced him to us.

“You got movers to help you with that truck?” Nana asked.

“No,” Josey said.

“Are you renting it by the hour or the day?”

“Day,” she answered. “I’ve got it rented for the whole week.”

Nana nodded before waving them both over. “No use doing anything now, then. Come over for some lemonade. My sons get off work at about five. They’ll wrangle up some friends to do it for you.”
That day was one of my first memories of Nana being Nana, pulling people together for the common good as she always did.

“Now you two be nice to the Tanner boy,” Nana told Paige and me. “He looks like he could use a bit of TLC.”

That day was also the day Ollie was entrusted to my keep. He was a year older than me, but back in those days, he was as large and loud as a church mouse. His sandy blonde hair stuck up in ways that defied gravity and he mostly muttered as we asked him about his dinosaurs.

We dragged him out back where all the magic happened, spending hours in the sun as the clouds and world passed us by. Our parents filtered in and out to keep an eye on us.

When the sun started to go down, and the fireflies started to peek out from their slumber, it was like his whole face lit up. I think that was the first time I knew I never wanted to stop looking at that smile.

_________________________________

Michel’s Review

Chasing Fireflies by Claudia Burgoa is one of my favorite books she has written. This coming of age romance spans over twenty years of family, friends, life, and love. It captures the complete untainted innocent hearts of children to the jaded, weary hearts after life has reared it’s ugly side. Through it all the the strength of family and friendship is the glue that holds Kaitlyn Blythe and Oliver Tanner together. Their story begins at the precious age of four and five, when popsicles on lazy summer days and chasing fireflies are the most important things to do in Knox Ridge, GA.

Small towns like Knox Ridge hold more than southern charm, they hold a history of generations of families and friends sharing their lives with one another. These towns hold their secrets close to heart but share their generous souls with generations. Knox Ridge is the heartbeat for generations of Blythes and Tanners.

Kaitlynn and Ollie have known each other all of their lives. They became friends when Ollie’s mother moved in next door to the Blythe family home. The moment they met they were destined to share their lives. From the childhood innocence to the angsty teenagers, both Kaitlynn and Ollie grew up depending on one another until Kaitlynn’s sister stepped in and changed it all. It sent them both in directions in life, away from Knox Ridge. It will take years for them both to find their way home and back to one another. Good things are worth waiting for and the magic in chasing fireflies is still there. Kaitlynn and Ollie both need that special magic to soother their weary souls. They need each other.

Without saying too much more about the content of the book I will say that this book was alsolutely magical. Ollie and Kaitlynn came to life and jumped off the pages. Their magical fireflies illuminated their story and made their lives special.

“Fireflies knew how to call each other back home”

Read Chasing Fireflies by Claudia Burgoa!

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Author Bio

Claudia is an award-winning, USA Today bestselling author. She lives in Colorado, working for a small IT. She has three children and manages a chaotic household of two confused dogs, and a wonderful husband who shares her love of all things geek. To survive she works continually to find purpose for the voices flitting through her head, plus she consumes high quantities of chocolate to keep the last threads of sanity intact.

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